flax-golden

cures for what ails The sign on the door is so worn that if it bore a more elaborate description it might be rendered illegible, but because there is only a single word inscribed

an embrace made of stars He asked me what I missed, most of all. I was almost asleep so he had to repeat the question. I told him truthfully that I didn’t know, the

the memory of birds What is it? she asks, pressing her hand against the picture on the wall. I wonder how many other children have repeated the gesture before her, impressed that the paint

doom The sun was shining the day it happened. The survivors comment on it, still. They had expected storms with rolling thunder. Maybe some fog. A proper grey overcast sky to better suit the

  under-bridge heart I keep my heart hidden, I always have. It never felt right to me to leave it exposed. It took me quite a while to find the proper spot to leave

lament of the wooden dragon It is a terrible thing, to ache to destroy oneself. And with it comes the constant struggle between destructive desire and the instinct of self-preservation. Alas, there cannot be